Ambush
by SkyeSoul
Summary: Voldemort is back, and finally everyone knows.  But agony after agony rolls over Harry, will he be able to stand up under the pressure?  Harry, forgotten and alone, must make a choice.
1. Chapter 1

What if Voldemort took Harry's blood for more reason then to be reborn stronger? What if instead, Voldemort knew if the blood of Lily Evans ran in his veins, he would be able to sneak past the wards around the Dursley home, and possibly take them down. What happens when Harry is ambushed where he least expects it.

This story sets off in the summer after OOTP.

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The car ride home was quiet and solemn for Harry. Trees and houses rushed by, people in their yards on such a beautiful day, gardening or playing. Meaningful though his friends support may be, it didn't block the chill of loneliness already creeping through his veins. 'Sirius is gone' Harry thought, but he smothered it quickly. He didn't want to have to feel that pain. He didn't want to have to feel anything.

After what seemed like hours, the Dursley family plus Harry pulled into the drive of Number 4, Little Whinging. Harry was scarcely out of the car before Vernon Dursley, his notorious and neglectful uncle, barked commands.

"Get your trunk out of the car boy, and bring it right here." He seemed to want to carry it himself, which only made Harry worry. 'What is he going to do with my trunk?' Harry thought.

Harry set the heavy trunk in front of Vernon, and with a gargantuan effort he hoisted it up painfully each step, step by step, without a word. Harry followed slowly behind him until they made it up the stairs. It was then that he noticed something.

The hall closet no longer had anything in it. It had no shelves or old sheets folded in it. Instead, it was empty. And there was a padlock on the outside. Vernon locked the school trunk in it just as Harry called out.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like, I'm locking your school things away" Vernon said. "I'll have none of that nonsense in my household, ruddy boy."

Harry supposed this was no different then normal. At least he had Hedwig and his wand, and he'd get his school things back when school begins to start.

"That's not all!" Harry's uncle said. "Your Aunt Petunia here had some gardening for you to do. If you'll notice, our weeds are getting a little out of hand. Weed and mulch the entire front and back yard, boy. Or you'll be getting no dinner."

"And that mulch better be 3 inches thick." Petunia said from the other room.

Harry really didn't feel like mulching, but he supposed he had no other choice.

He set off to yardwork as his scar twinged in pain.

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"_Lucius," a silky voice said._

"_Yes, master?" A stately wizard replied. His hair was long and blonde, and his face angular and cruel. He stood ready, with a regal cane in his hands. _

"_You have been most foolish, in engaging the order in this past month. They were not supposed to become involved, Lucius. Do you know this?" _

_A rhetorical question, the serpentine voice broke off into a frightening hissing. Slitted red eyes peered at Malfoy. _

"_Yes, master..." Lucius Malfoy was not an unintelligent man, and he knew to be very afraid. "I implore you, the boy was quite on his own in the beginning. How the order arrived so fast, I do not know" He said, growing panicked. _

"_I am not unaware of this. However, you have failed me." The voice was laden with terrible rage. "This is unacceptable." _

_The red eyes grew wide as Lord Voldemort cried, "Crucio!" _

_The red bolt of light hit Malfoy, he began screaming and convulsing as pain wracked his body._

"_Crucio!" Voldemort cried out again, immersed in the anger of his failure. The prophecy was to be his, not broken by his incompetent followers. _

"_The prophecy should have been mine right now, Malfoy! You must learn not to fail me, the Dark Lord, lest you suffer these consequences." He spoke over the broken cries of pain. _

_Voldemort stopped the curse as Malfoy kneeled on the ground, broken. _

"_However, you have a chance to redeem yourself. You know why I took Potter's blood when I could have used any witch or wizard who despised me. I know you to be cunning, Lucius. If you fail, your son will pay the price." _

_Voldemort became excited and vengeful, and as his anger rose even more and he lifted his wand for a final curse._

Harry woke up in a cold sweat. His scar was searing from the pain, and Harry was shaking all over. However, the pain in his scar quickly dulled. He stood and rushed up to the mirror, looking at his hands. They were not the cold hands of Voldemort, but warm and healthy. Harry looked up at himself, then collapsed on the bed.

What did that mean? Well, obviously Voldemort's angry with Malfoy, because he didn't bring back the prophecy. In all honesty, Harry was quite surprised that Voldemort wasn't more angry. But Malfoy seemed to be getting a second chance... something new.

He remembered Voldemort saying he took Harry's blood in the triwizard tournament because he would be reborn stronger. He remembered the words Wormtail spoke...

"_Blood of the foe, forcibly taken, you will renew your enemy..." _

And because of that blood, Voldemort could now touch Harry. Could now cause him whatever pain he wished. But was there something more? He didn't think so... Harry was having no trouble remembering the dream, so he resolved to write a letter to Ron and Hermionie and-

"Sirius..." Harry whispered into the thin air, breath catching on the name. All thought of a missive was forgotten as tears welled in his eyes.

Harry fell asleep that night lonelier then ever.

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"Where's Hedwig?" Harry yelled down the stairs. Not a second after he yelled this he bound down the stairs and came face to face with Vernon Dursley. Aunt Petunia and Dudley were in the other room, acting as though nothing were wrong.

"Where's Hedwig." This became a statement.

However, he merely grinned.

"Set her free!" He said merrily. It really was a sickening sight, pudgy Uncle Vernon acting giddy.

"What's that mean." Harry asked, voice dropping with dread.

"I took that owl's cage from your room, opened the window, and told your ruddy owl to get out! I don't want any of it's nonsense, bird droppings fouling up the upstairs and bringing dead rats. I also don't want you talking to those unnatural friends of yours." Uncle Dursley snarled at Harry.

Harry felt violated. Uncle Vernon had no right to do that. He knew Hedwig couldn't have gone anywhere, she was probably at the burrow or the headquarters of The Order of the Phoenix. He woke up, ready to speak to his friends and to Hedwig just to find her gone from her cage. He couldn't even fathom how he did it. Imaging this gargantuan man trying to sneak into Harry's room and actually succeeding! It sounded preposterous, and it was.

"In that case," Harry said. "I'm missing my wand too. I've no doubt you have something to do with that as well."

"Oh don't worry, boy" Vernon snarled, now annoyed. "I didn't snap it. I locked it up with everything else in the closet. I don't want anything distracting you from earning your keep around here." He lumbered off, as he yelled "And get on that breakfast!"

Harry could have yelled at the injustice of it all, but his anger quickly dulled into an ache in his midriff, an ache that had not left since the battle at the ministry. Harry hadn't thought about Sirius since then. He wouldn't, couldn't bear acknowledging to himself that Sirius really was truly gone.

After breakfast was made, Harry got to work on his chores.

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Arabella Figg was an old woman. She smelled strongly of cats, and her curly mousy hair hung all over her flowered dress.

Mrs. Figg had a meeting with the headmaster of a prestigious school, Albus Dumbledore. An old bearded man, far older then anyone you would meet in the muggle world.

"How are you, Arabella?" Dumbledore asked genially as she stepped out of the green flames.

"I am quite well, although there has been a flu going around." She said. "Many of the kids dropping out of sight, including Harry. Neighborhood's a lot quieter place." Mrs. Figg was not beating around the bush, she knew why she was here.

"What do you mean, you haven't seen Harry?" Dumbledore asked. Always was he concerned for Harry under the care of his aunt and uncle, as they despised magic in all forms.

"Well, he hasn't been out more." She said. "You know they give him chores, for the first week or two I saw him out doing some yardwork or taking a walk every day. One day, he just stopped doing those things. About a week ago, I'd say."

This concerned Dumbledore. What if Vernon, with the return of Voldemort and of danger, had simply had enough and locked him away. However, he doubted the Dursleys had become openly abusive. Neglectful though they were, they never directly harmed Harry.

"Thank you," Dumbledore said. "You appear to be rather anxious, you may be going along now. I will see you next week as usual."

"Oh yes yes, I have an appointment at the vet for one of my pet cats. I'll be seeing you Dumbledore!" Mrs. Figg called out, stepping into the flames.

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Ron was sitting at the dinner table holding Pig when he realized something. He hadn't heard from Harry or Hermionie for a while. Hermionie wasn't unusual; if he didn't send the first letter she couldn't talk to him because she doesn't have an owl. However, Harry hadn't sent him a letter. Ron had decided that Harry was upset about Sirius, and decided not to pester him about it without talking to Hermionie.

The unusual thing was though, Hedwig showed up empty handed, or empty-legged, a week or two ago and hadn't gone back to Harry's house. Ron didn't know what to make of this and decided to mention it to her.

_Dear Hermionie,_

_I'm sorry, I totally forgot to write! What I mean is, I forgot you didn't have an owl. Big news, my Dad got promoted! He's the head of the office of - (The next part looked carefully copied) the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects, or DCCDSPO for short if that's your fancy. I think the name's long but mum says that back when You-Know-Who was powerful before, all kinds of counterfeit objects started cropping up. Like 'Metamorphagus metals.' It would be cool to be like Tonks by wearing a medal, but apparently they make you sprout feelers instead or are hoaxes. _

_Other then that, I've been fine. I've been training as a keeper, because I've always wanted to be team keeper and Oliver Wood isn't on the Gryffindor team anymore. Don't tell Harry though, he'll think it's a ridiculous idea. _

_Speaking of Harry, he hasn't written me. Hedwig actually showed up at the burrow a week ago with no letter and she's been staying here. Do you think Harry's okay? Because Hedwig hasn't been acting that concerned. But with you know, him dying and all, maybe we should check..._

_How has your summer been? _

_Ron_

Ron tied the letter to the owl who was twitching with excitement, and literally threw him out the window as he zipped off. He thought maybe he should have used Hedwig as his owl flew unsteadily away.

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Hermionie was writing an owl to Ron, noticing Harry's lack of correspondence over the last few weeks.

_Dear Ron,_

_Mine's been okay. My Mom and Dad wanted to go on a trip to an amusement park, but I don't much like roller coasters. Roller coasters are these muggle rides, and you get strapped into a seat. Then, you are rocketed around really high and fast, faster then any broomstick could go by a huge margin. They can also go higher faster then a broomstick can, and you go in loop de loops and do all kinds of stunts. It's meant to get your adrenaline pumping, but I didn't like it. Oh well, I liked the other things like the shops and the smaller rides. I am kind of lonely here without you and Harry though, I don't have much friends at home anymore, since I started attending Hogwarts. Not that I mind, it's just the truth. _

_I'm worried about Harry. Thats very strange of Hedwig, but we know his family really hates magic. Maybe they said she had to go and didn't give Harry time to write a note to go along with Hedwig. Oh well, I don't think it's anything to be extremely concerned about. I think I'll write him a quick letter with pigwidgeon, but if he doesn't reply there's nothing I can do. _

_Yours truly, _

_Hermionie_

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_Thump._

Harry woke with a start, as he seemed to so often these days.

_Thump. _

He had no idea of what the thumping noise was.

_Thump._

After thrusting his glasses onto his face, Harry could make out what was banging against his window at 7 am. It appeared to be a minuscule, excited owl. Harry was happy to see pigwidgeon, as he knew it was a letter from one of his friends.

_Dear Harry,_

_Have you bee okay? We've, that is to say Ron and I have been worried about you. I'm sure everyone else has too. You just haven't sent any letters or talked to us recently._

_As for me, my mum and dad took me to an amusement park. It was a lot of fun, even though I don't like to ride rollercoasters. I just went on the small rides and in the shops with my mum. It was really strange, being out in the muggle world in such a big setting again, I had to readjust!_

_Hope you're well, Harry. _

_Sincerely, _

_Hermionie_

Harry was elated to hear from his friends, but it was the dead of the night and he didn't have a pen or quill around to reply with. He could risk keeping Pig in the room overnight in Hedwig's cage and hope he'd stay quiet, but if he didn't he wouldn't get any food tomorrow.

However, Harry thought talking to his friends was worth missing a day of food.

The next morning, Harry woke up as early as possible and crept down the stairs to the kitchen. He nabbed a piece of paper and a pen and hurried back up to his room before anyone could be woken up by Pig, who was awake and shaking again.

_Hermionie,_

_I haven't written because my uncle set Hedwig free the night I got home behind my back. It's ridiculous. At least Hedwig knew to go to the burrow. You can borrow her, Hermionie, so we don't have to borrow Pig this whole time. _

_My family is being particularly nasty to me, but I think it's because they know Voldemort's back and I'm putting Ickle Diddykins in danger. They're having me work most of the day in the yard or cleaning, in addition to doing the laundry and cooking their meals. Oh well. I just hope this summer here is going to be very short. _

_Sincerely,_

_Harry_

Harry tied the missive to Pig's leg, and as he opened the window Pigwidgeon screeched and woke Dudley up. This wouldn't have been a problem if Dudley didn't yell through the walls.

"Keep your damned owl quiet Harry!" Dudley yelled.

This woke Vernon with a start, Harry knew, because he could hear him lumber down the halls.

Harry's door flew open with a bang.

"What are you doing at this hour of the morning, with an OWL?" He yelled. The veins in his neck were reaching a dangerous point, but he knew enough to stay quiet. "I thought I told you, no owls and no unnatural friends!"

"Uncle Vernon, he-"

"No food for you today boy. And since it's 7 am, you had better get started some of your chores today. I know the dishes need doing." He lumbered off to go fall asleep again, and soon the house was quiet.

Harry had no intention of getting up and doing the dishes, so instead he lay in bed thinking about what a difficult summer it had already been. He found he couldn't get to sleep again, because his scar was aching. He supposed this was only to be expected, if Voldemort's angry about the failure at the ministry.

After a while, he got up and started on breakfast. He was absent-mindedly flipping bacon when a pain in his forehead cleaved him in two.

_All he could feel was rage and excitement. The time had finally come._

"_My loyal followers, you have been selected for the highest mission, even higher then retrieving the prophecy. We need not know the whole contents to know that Harry Potter is a traitor and scum." _

_The Death Eaters cried their agreements. _

"_The filthy half blood! How dare he speak your name! How dare he-" Bellatrix cried louder then the rest. _

"_Calm yourself, Bellatrix. We do not attack until the week's end. There is much preparation to do." _

As the emotion faded, Harry returned to Privet Drive to find that he was lying on the kitchen floor and Vernon Dursley was standing above him. Harry and Vernon both were shaking.

'Oh, I'm going to get it now' Harry thought.

Vernon must have thought the same thing because he grabbed the frying pan and whacked Harry in the shoulder. He felt a horrible pain in addition to his scar and felt the bones crush, the shoulder broken and useless.

"That's what you get, boy, for just standing there and letting our breakfast burn! To your room, NOW!" He roared. He then struck Harry in the same arm with the frying pan.

"Now you can't write to your friends, you freak. We'll be up to your room to lock the windows shortly." His forearm and shoulder cracked, no wand, and no way to write to friends, Harry felt lower then ever.

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Harry stopped coming out of his room, because the Dursleys never called him down to do chores anymore. His days were spent reading the few books in this spare room Dudley owned.

There was one called 'Speak Out.' It was the tale of a boy much like himself who was neglected and abused throughout his schooling years. He could only bring himself to read the introduction, remembering things he wished would stay buried forever.

Harry became so withdrawn, he didn't even blink when Pig came thumping on the window for the umpteenth time. There was nothing he could do.

Cradling the makeshift cast he had constructed out of old clothes, Harry uncomftorably fell asleep.

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Albus Dumbledore sat alone in his office, waiting for Arabella Figg to step out of the fire. She never did.

This worried Dumbledore; he knew it could have been a missed appointment, but coupled with the fact that Harry still hadn't turned up it worried him. Also, he had received letters from just about everyone at the Burrow stating their concern that Harry had not been replying to any of their missives, so Dumbledore drafted himself a letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_I would like to come by and talk to you about some things. Send your reply by return owl,_

_Dumbledore_

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It was a peaceful night in little whinging. There was a full moon and a clear sky, and it was a pleasant 70 degrees fahrenheit outside. Nobody took any notice of a cloaked man suddenly appearing on the street, striding towards the Dursley residence. He did a most peculiar thing; he walked right into the fenced back yard at 3 am, and began chanting incantations. After a short while, he waved his wand and a silver layer seemed to peel away from the Dursley household, and suddenly 3 more cloaked figures appeared in the back yard, and the first one disapparated away.

Harry woke with a start, his scar was searing. He didn't have a nightmare, so why was his scar hurting so badly? He didn't have this question for long, as the door to his bedroom burst open.

Standing in the doorway of his bedroom was Bellatrix Lestrange.

"What are you doing here?" Harry yelled. Well aware he was wandless, there was nothing he could do.

"We're here to pick you up!" She cackled, as she waved her wand. "It's time to take you home, the Dark Lord says. Wants you around, he says. I don't know whatever for, who would want a half-blood like you."

Thick, gnarled ropes bound Harrys hands and legs behind his back. Harry hated this. If Vernon didn't lock up his wand last week...

"What happened to the Dursleys?" Harry asked, fearing the worst. He didn't care particularly much, but he didn't want them to come to harm.

"Those people in the other rooms?" Nott said, stepping into Harry's room. "We got rid of them, shall you say. Useless baggage is not tolerated by the Dark Lord." Harry immediately felt guilty, Dudley was gone. 'We had finally started to be friends' Harry thought.

"Now, now, we must'nt be long here." Malfoy said, taking charge. "It would be best if we brought him back soon, Nott. He'll be waiting for us." Malfoy pointed his wand at Harry, and before he could roll out of the way, it all went black.

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	2. Chapter 2

P.S. About apparition in this chapter, I'n treating it as a location trace like magic is, how the ministry thought Dobby was doing the hovering charms. Since the hideout is in a magically populated area somewhere, they'll assume it was just a parent teaching their child or something or other.

Albus Dumbledore was frightened for Harry.

He had arrived at the Dursley home the day after he sent Harry an owl, to which he received no reply. He found an empty house, and broken wards. In each room, a member of the Dursley family lay dead in their beds, eyes closed as their sleep lasted forever.

He was at a loss, how could the wards have been broken? Nobody but Harry himself could have harmed the boy in this house, the blood bond made sure of it -

The blood bond. The blood that Voldemort had taken on the night of his return. Dumbledore had knew at the time that it would possibly ensure Harry could return from death if Harry let Voldemort murder him, but this never even crossed his mind. The blood protection that Harry had at the house now ran through his veins, and Voldemort had known.

"Expecto Patronum." Dumbledore whispered.

"Tell the order," he told the phoenix. "Tell the order harry has been captured."

Staring at the dark mark above Number 4, Privet Drive, Dumbledore apparated to the Ministry of Magic.

"_Lucius... you have done well." The cold, high voice said. _

"_Thank you, matster." Malfoy said, bowing his head._

_Voldemort turned to the hundreds assembled in front of him. "Today, we have captured Harry Potter! He is kept in the dungeons. They have waited so long for a captive..." Voldemort trailed off._

_Many of the death eaters had gleeful looks on their faces. _

"_And once that old man Dumbledore discovers his precious boy is gone, we will attack that muggle neighborhood in celebration!" _

_At that, the Death Eaters cheered. _

_Voldemort then spoke to Snape, who was standing close. _

"_Fetch me the boy." _

Harry woke with a start. His scar was on fire, he felt like his head was going to split open. His hands were bound in chains, and he was in a large cell. There was no walls, only close metal bars all around. Like a cage in this cave, all alone.

Suddenly, Severus Snape strode through the hole in the cave, and waved his wand. The gates swung open and the chains fell from Harry's wrist, though the metal stayed around his wrists and ankles.

"Professor Snape!" Harry cried out.

"Quiet!" Snape yelled, silencing Harry momentarily with a wave of his wand. "Stand up, and follow me."

Harry knew now Snape was a spy, and he still had to play a part. However, it raised his hopes a little that he might escape. If Snape could help him.

Harry stumbled through the caverns following Snape, his scar on fire. He was hungry and the braces were heavy on his limbs already. After what seemed like going around in circles for ages, they arrived at the hall Harry had just seen.

Voldemort looked at Harry, sinister, evil success gleaming in his red snake eyes.

"Come here, Harry Potter." He beckoned.

Harry stood his ground.

"There is nothing you can do, you know. No point to resisting, no point making it worse on yourself."

'Except that there is,' thought Harry. 'It's better to die standing up then cowering in a corner waiting for it.' He remembered thinking that on the night Voldemort returned, a year ago.

"Cruico!" Voldemort said.

It was pain beyond pain. Like thousands of needles pressing into his skin, digging at every fibre of his being. He could hear dimly the laughing of a hundred Death Eaters in the background, but only knew the endless pain...

And then it stopped. Harry lay panting on the cold cave floor, thankful for its relief.

"That was only a taster, young Harry." Voldemort said. "Would you like some more, or would you like to come here?"

Harry supposed if Voldemort was going to kill him soon it would have already happened, so there really was no point wearing himself out prematurely. He climbed up slowly and walked to the front of the hall.

"Very good," said Voldemort. "Now, I have a gift for you."

He pulled a necklace out of his pocket, a green and silver dark mark. Voldemort handed it to Harry. He could feel the evil in his grip. Harry supposed he was to put it on, but he did not. He merely looked up at Voldemort with bold, defiant eyes.

"Now, now, Harry, we need to teach you manners. Imperio!"

_Harry was drifting, blissfully happy. It was comfortable here, and he knew it could stay that way. _

"_Put on the necklace," a hissing voice said to him. "Put it on..."_

'_But why?' Harry thought. It was evil, he thought, bad, as he moved his arms to slip it over his head. But he stopped. _

"_No... it is good, put it on..."_

'_I don't want to put it on.'_

"_But you must, Harry Potter."_

"NO!" Harry shouted, to the entire hall.

"Oh, it seems we need to teach Harry Potter some obedience to his Lord!" Voldemort yelled for the whole hall to hear. The Death Eaters yelled in agreement.

Someone forced the necklace over his head, and suddenly he didn't feel alone in his mind. There was another presence, like Voldemort was in his head, and could tell him things. It wasn't something new, however. He recognized the feel.

As he looked up at Voldemort, he said "Yes Harry. It is just as I thought." Just as soon as he spoke the words, the necklace, and the feeling, vaporized into nothing.

Then he turned to the Death Eaters, as food appeared on the tables in the hall. It reminded Harry rather sickeningly of Hogwarts. "Eat, drink, and celebrate, for today we captured Harry Potter!" the Death Eaters cried in happiness and began to celebrate, as Voldemort beckoned Harry into a side room.

"You may want to know why I did not kill you, Harry Potter." Voldemort said smoothly. "Do you know why you can access my mind?" He asked.

"No idea," said Harry dryly.

"Well, until now, neither did I." Voldemort conversationally. Harry was rather bemused by the tone of voice. Here he was, having a relatively candid conversation with Lord Voldemort. He did not pass comment, though, and continued on.

"I wondered what kinds of things could forge a connection through the mind, that spans time and space. That becomes worse at the flaring of emotion, and occlumency blocks it. Tell me Harry, what do you know of Horcruxes?"

"No idea." Harry said again.

"A Horcrux," Voldemort began, "Is a piece of someone's soul. To create a Horcrux is to break your soul off and store it in something, so that you may become immortal. It seems, on the night I attacked your mother and you, your mothers protection meant I could not kill you. When I turned on you, the curse bounded back."

"Yes, I know!" Harry shouted. He did not like talking about the murder of his parents with the murderer.

"Crucio!" Voldemort shouted in anger. "You will listen to me, Potter, because you are my slave now!"

Harry scarcely heard him as his arms curled back, and he held his screams as best he could. Hot pokers were being pressed into every cell on his body, his brain was on fire...

"Harry." Voldemort said. "You are a Horcrux I have accidentally made. It was so simple, how could I not realize? You have a piece of my mind, locked inside of you." Voldemort must have known these words would affect Harry, because he stopped.

Harry was shaken. There was a piece of Voldemort's soul, inside him? Voldemort's mind was inside his? How? Was Voldemort, a part of him? Harry became quickly scared, what traits of his personality were truly his and what were Voldemort's, was he even his own person? He never felt more violated in his life.

"I can see I've given you a lot to think about," Voldemort said. He called out to Nott, who led him back to his cage.

As the chains sprang to life to bind him, Harry felt empty. Voldemort really was inside him, like Moody had said when he attacked Arthur Weasley. It really was him attacking Mr. Weasley, the father of his best friend. It was worse then possession. What complicated things, was that Voldemort could never die unless Harry was dead, if he understood correctly. As long as he was alive, Voldemort was immortal.

He had to die.

Harry Potter had to let himself die, if Voldemort was ever to be vanquished. That is why he is not dead now. Voldemort was never going to let him die, he was going to torture him to insanity. Make him an example to the rest of the wizarding world. And if he was insane, nobody would ever know that Harry had to die.

It really was brilliant.

It was very cold.

Harry didn't know how long he'd been left to rot in this cage. The chill ran through his fingers, crawled through his veins like living icicles. There was no part of his body not affected by the tendrils of ice, both inside his veins and forming on the top of the cave.

He felt like he's been left down here days, possibly for weeks. He was dying for some food, any type of nourishment. Nobody had come to bother him, nobody had come to break the monotony. He almost wished Voldemort wanted something to do with him, so he wouldn't be driven insane by being left alone with nothing, nothing but his thoughts...

And the nightmares. Every night, dreaming of Death Eater raids. Of him attacking women and children, merciless in his onslaught.

_He surveyed the landscape exuding a vile glow, reveling in the pain he caused the muggles. _

_Scum, the muggles were. 'They are a defilement to the world,' Voldemort thought. _

_Suddenly, a masked Death Eater apparated next to him. _

"_They are all dead, my lord." He said, bowing his head. _

"_Very good," he hissed. Voldemort apparated down to the village. _

_He walked through the bodies, piled everywhere, almost aware that Harry was watching him. _

_As he turned over the pale face of a mother holding her baby, he said, _

"_You're a fool, Harry Potter. And you will lose. Everything."_

"Wake up! The Dark Lord requested your presence, scum." A faceless Death Eater woke Harry out of his nightmare, robbing him of the few hours of sleep he scraped a day.

He stared into the Death Eater's cold brown eyes, wishing for nothing more then for Voldemort to die.

Harry was escorted to a personal dining area, where he was invited to sit down with Voldemort.

"_How have you been, Harry? I trust you are finding the accommodations... suitable." _He hissed in parseltongue, chuckling. If the hideous noise could be called as such.

Harry had no will in him to answer.

"_I wanted to have a little chat, over dinner. Eat up Harry, you must be starving." _Voldemort looked at Harry expectantly.

Harry didn't touch a bit of the food. "_You poisoned it, I'm not stupid."_ Harry spat.

"_Oh, but of course I wouldn't do that. Try it and see." _Voldemort looked about as honest as he could. Harry figured he had little to lose, so he ate the turkey.

To his surprise, the turkey was quite good. And, it didn't appear to have any immediate side effects. Harry squinted his eyes suspiciously.

"_I have been wondering, how has Hogwarts been lately?" _Voldemort hissed.

"_Fine." _Harry answered shortly.

"_Now, that will hardly do." _Voldemort looked highly displeased.

"_What are you going to do if I don't answer?" _Harry didn't have a problem with Voldemort harming him, if it was to protect his friends. He'd rather die, or go mad, then see them come to harm.

"_Oh, I know you very well Potter. I know you have a thing for heroics." _Voldemort curled his upper lip at this notion, seemingly bemused. _"Time and time again, you have only harmed yourself trying to save your so called friends. Yes, I have learned how to deal with your type. I have already killed your family-" _Harry shook with anger "_And I will kill your friends. Do not think I don't know where the Burrow is, the Weasley stronghold. I knew long before I had a body. Perhaps, if you do not cooperate, I'll bring one of your friends here for a visit." _

Harry slumped, defeated. It was either give up information about Hogwarts, risking their capture later, or have them captured now. Harry considered the possibility of a bluff - but it wasn't worth it to be wrong.

And so it began.

Dinner with Voldemort became frequent. Almost every night or two, Voldemort would call Harry up to discuss goings-on with him.

"_Tell me about Ron and Hermionie."_

"_Tell me about your dorm-mates."_

"_What do you do to pass time at Hogwarts?"_

Most of them seemed like fairly innocuous questions. Whenever Harry failed to give a satisfactory answer, though, he was cursed until he did. This was not always the cruciatus curse, though.

"_Why are pure-bloods better then other wizards?" _Voldemort asked tonight.

Harry lost it. Harry was sick of being questioned, night after night after night. "_You know what? They aren't. In the end, we are all equal wizards and-" _Harry was cut off by a curse from Voldemort.

"_Incindieri."_

Harry doubled over as hundreds of cuts covered his body.

"_Now, I don't appreciate insubordination. Answer me again, Harry - Why are purebloods better?" _Voldemort's lips were curled in distaste.

"_They're not!" _

"_Teregnieus."_

"AARRGHH!" Harry let out a pained cry. It felt like his skin was on fire, every inch of his body was burning. He bit his lip to keep from screaming.

And suddenly, it was gone. His skin felt raw.

"_You know Harry, I really have been thinking; I've been keeping you all to myself. Maybe, I should let other people spend a little time with you too. Maybe, Bellatrix?" _Voldemort smiled cruelly.

Bellatrix came bursting through the doors.

"Baby Potter wants to play! Auntie Bella will just have a great time playing with you, won't she? Stupefy!"

And Harry's senses were no more.

When Harry came to, he was chained up in his cell with Bellatrix cackling over him.

"What does baby Potter want to do, huh?" She stumbled next to Harry, and whispered in his ear. "Maybe he wants a little... personal time."

Harry's blood ran colder then any icy dungeon could make it. 'Oh, God no, please, please, please...'

But just as soon as she spoke she backed away. "We can leave that for later, Potter! Aren't such a baby are you anymore, really?" Bellatrix looked at Harry demurely, and left.

The moment she was out of the cell, Harry threw up in a corner of his cage. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw blood trickling down his neck. He reached up and felt bite marks. Then he realized, Bellatrix bit him.

The thought that a woman could be like that, so sickening, made Harry's skin crawl. He felt dirty, defiled, more then he ever had before.

For the next few days, Harry had visitors.

There was a man, very bulky, with dark eyes. He liked to physically beat Harry. He would kick him in the shins until his bones splintered, broke each of the bones in his fingers and healed them all over again, good as new. He always used magic, to make the chains perfectly still. He could never fight back.

Bellatrix always came back, giving him cuts and burns in the most unfomctorable places. Biting him, touching him...

Her husband, Rudolphus, didn't seem to even bother with the pretenses. Whenever he entered his cage, Harry faded within himself, sickened to ever be aware of his body, how it was being used...

Sometimes Bellatrix would even watch.

Professor Snape would wordlessly enter every so often, giving him potions and healing serums. He never caused pain, just silently treated to Harry's wounds and healed him. He never answered Harry's pleas, or even acted like he had hearing at all.

One day, Harry was brought up from his cell.

Snape had been sent to take Harry to a lavish room, complete with a bed, shower, and supply of food in what seemed to be a magical refrigerator.

Snape administered his usual healing potions and spells, and then said,

"You will sleep here tonight, and tomorrow someone will summon you."

Harry had so many questions, but he knew it would be useless to ask.

'Well, I'm in a nice room for once.' Harry thought. He didn't trust the idea, however. He decided to start by taking a shower; he hadn't had a shower in what had to be weeks.

He turned on the water to moderately warm, and then stepped inside.

It felt heavenly. He almost forgot in what had to be the past two weeks that anything felt this good. There was shampoo and soap on the shelves, and he could hardly believe he was still under the possession of Lord Voldemort. Trying not to think about what this could mean, he enjoyed the shower until he was pruned from overexposure.

When he regretfully stepped out, he found clothes heated and dried on the sink. There were pajamas, and traditional Death Eater robes folded on the dresser outside. Harry's mind was unfortunately putting the pieces together, and he did not want to have to think about what was going to happen tomorrow.

Harry decided to at least eat some of the food out of the fridge, and after he had had his fill of ham and cheese sandwiches, butterbeer and pudding, he fell asleep in the comftorable bedding, for one night free of nightmares.

"Wake up, Potter. Put on your robes; it is time to go." A masked Death Eater showed up in his underground bedroom; Harry was loathe to leave, but he knew he had to.

He felt disgusting, putting on Death Eater robes. Thankfully, no mask was required of him. After he was fully robed, the Death Eater grabbed his arm and apparated away.

They appeared next to Voldemort, near what appeared to be a muggle town in ruins. The people were sectioned off into groups, and all the houses and buildings were on fire or in shambles.

"_Well, Potter." _Voldemort said silkily. "_I have a little mind game for you today." _

"_What is it you want, you sick man?" _Harry hissed back.

"_As you can see, these muggles are sectioned off into groups. You're going to pick which groups live, and which groups... die." _Voldemort looked positively delighted.

"_Are any really going to live, or will you simply murder them all anyways?" _Harry spat.

"_Oh no, my dear boy. I wouldn't want you thinking I don't keep my word; our... partnership would hardly work if I lied to you at every turn." _Voldemort looked at Harry expectantly.

Harry was presented with his first two groups. 5 teenage children stood before him, tears in their eyes. Two of them were obviously in love, because they were clinging to each other for dear life. 3 girls and 2 boys, who's life may come to an end right there. The other two were doctors, aged and evidently renown, by their gray hair and awards on their lab coats, glinting in the twilight and the flames.

"_Now Harry, which shall live?" _Voldemort asked.

Harry didn't know who to pick, Harry didn't want to have to pick. He couldn't.

"_I will give you 5 more seconds, Harry." _Voldemort said.

He couldn't pick. His body was gripped with immobilization, his mind wracked with indecision. How was he supposed to pick, what was he supposed to do?

Suddenly, in a flash of green light, all 7 people were dead. Harry began to shake, tears cascaded from his eyes.

"_You should have chosen Harry, or they wouldn't all have to die." _Voldemort said. _"Now, lets try that again - Who gets to live this time?" _

The choice this time was a loving couple and their newborn baby, against what appeared to be 3 college-age boys. The boys must have known the couple, and that this was a choice, because they were yelling.

"Pick us, pick us, please!" Their eyes pleaded with Harrys. The muggles seem to know that Harry did not want to choose, that he had no choice.

"_Let the family live." _Harry whispered, with tears in his eyes.

Another flash of green light, and the college boy were no more.

The choices kept coming. Each decision wracked Harry with more guilt, more responsibility. 5 old women against 3 college sports stars, a husband against a wife. A brother against a sister, a twin against a twin. How was he supposed to choose who gets to live and who gets to die? He was just a 16 year old boy...

"_Harry, this is your final decision, do not give up now." _Voldemort said.

Out walked a mother and father, and their baby. The resemblance was sickening. The mother had beautiful curly red hair, and the father wore glasses and his hair was a tousled mess. The baby in the woman's arms had to be no older then a year old.

"_Harry, you must choose. The baby, or the parents."_

Harry felt like he was being asked: Would he have rather his parents died, or him? But he knew, the orphaned child would grow up never knowing, but it would not be the same. The parents would suffer for the rest of their lives, traumatized by this incident.

"_The parents..." _Harry tearfully said.

"_I am surprised," _Voldemort said amidst a final flash of green light. "_I would have thought you'd have killed the baby. Not quite the Gryffindor everyone thinks you are, Harry." _

Harry felt like the lowest scum on the planet. He felt like he was lower then dirt, lower then even Voldemort.

"_You have one more task," _Voldemort said._ "You have to either kill one man, or watch 200 people die."_

This was an easy choice for Harry, one person against 200!

"_Well of course the one man." _Harry said.

Voldemort laughed. _ "You misunderstand me my dear boy. You must be the one to kill him. You can not ask for help either. Oh you can certainly try, but nobody but me will understand you..."_

Harry shattered.

He was supposed to kill this man himself, armed with nothing but a knife, or watch 200 of the townspeople die?

He had to do it. For the rest of the people, even the man himself knew it. His eyes were closed, ready for the inevitable. Even if he could not understand Harry's hissing, he could see plainly that he was going to die...

But Harry was not a murderer. He had never killed a rabbit before, let alone a person. He had killed Quirrel in his first year, but he had never meant for that to happen.

There was nothing for it. Harry charged the man, and plunged the silver dagger straight into the man's throat. He bled out quickly, along with Harry's dignity.

"_Very good!" _Voldemort praised. It felt sickening, being praised by that monster. But he deserved every last bit.

"_You killed us."_

_Harry looked around, but all he could see was black smoke and burning buildings. _

"_You killed us all."_

_Harry looked around again, and this time he saw bodies. _

"_Why would you choose.." The bodies became animated; they stood up and attacked him. Suddenly, there were chains holding Harry down. _

"_I didn't want to! He made me, I had no choice!" Harry screamed. _

_The man he stabbed lunged at him with the sword of Gryffindor, it slid through his chest-_

Harry awoke with a bloodcurdling scream.

He quickly realized he was in the cell in Voldemort's dungeon, but the chains were not on him. He supposed they thought he would stop struggling, but what did it matter. He was a murderer, and he could see no way out of this predicament. His entire existence had come to entertaining Voldemort with senseless killing. He could feel the Horcrux growing stronger inside of him each day, overjoyed at the idea of killing muggles. He was slipping into Voldemort's mind more and more.

He was privy to all of the Death Eater raids, important meetings discussing how to deal with the Order of the Phoenix and the Ministry... he knew the names of all the spies they had but what did it matter. He was never going to see his friends again, the only reason he kept himself alive was so that they didn't die tomorrow, so that they could have an extra year, five years... it was worth it to him.

Harry was constantly having nightmares. Nightmares of rape, of abuse and torture... Voldemort made it his hobby to pop in and out and maybe spend an hour or two just using the cruciatus curse on Harry, perhaps to spice up his day... Harry had given up hope. The only time he ever got out of this God forsaken place was on the raids.

A Death Eater would wake him from his rare sleep, and they would apparate out to some unknown location, where he was forced to kill, to choose who would live and who would die... forced to kill people transfigured into Ron or Hermionie or Ginny...

And then it struck Harry.

They were apparating. Right out of this cage. There weren't any wards, any alarms, nothing preventing himself from apparating right on out himself. Except for the fact that he didn't know how of course, but he knew the theory. Fred and George had explained it to him one day, having heard from Bill...

"_Hey Harry, wanna know how to apparate?"_

"_Yeah, Bill got us this book-_

"_-It has al the theories and -"_

"_-ways to practice and -"_

"_- theories and skills and-"_

"_We think we could learn just from this book!" They finished in tandem. _

"_That's really awesome!" Harry grinned. It would be really cool if he could learn to apparate here, before anyone else. _

"_Now, that's not to say this book is perfect." Fred said. _

"_Yeah," George continued. "It keeps going on about some waffle like Deliberation, Determination, and Dingleberries. Point is, you're supposed to turn into nothingness, imagining where you want to go clearly." _

"_Georgie and I have got it a few times, but we're no experts. We keep splinching ourselves." Fred said._

"_Wait," Ron piped up. "You know how to fix splinching?"_

"_Yeah, little brother of mine."_

"_We taught ourselves, figured-"_

"_-It would be useful information."_

_Ron said, "Well, it really is." _

Harry had tried a couple times and managed nothing more then to look silly in front of Fred and George, but he did manage to get everything but his left forearm across the yard before Mrs. Weasley ran out, realizing her sons were breaking the law.

Harry figured this was as good a time as any. Nobody was going to be bothering him for a while as he figured it was the middle of the night.

Harry focused all his attention on the corner of the cage. He wished so valiantly he could be there. His rescue was hinging on his ability to not splinch himself. He could fix it, but without a wand his magic would be extremely weak and slow going, not to mention hideously painful. He turned into the void with all the conviction he could muster and...

He was there. He was in the opposite side of his cage.

Harry was ecstatic. He knew he could escape, he knew he could escape! He had to apparate to headquarters immediately, before anyone came running in. He focused on Grimmauld Place and turned into the void...

And there he was. Standing right in front of the headquarters. Harry was overjoyed to see that broken down, grayed out street corner. He ran up to the door and stumbled in as fast as he could.

"Remus, it's about time, you've..." Molly Weasley looked at Harry.

Harry just grinned, and passed out in the hallway.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry could hear voices around him, but they were faint. He felt so tired.

In the brief moments he was awake, he could hear voices around him.

Sometimes it was Madam Poppy and Snape, talking about potential treatments for his injuries. Sometimes it was Ron and Hermionie, keeping him comfort near his bed. Once or twice, he even thought he heard Dumbledore speak to him, but he could never make out the words.

So, Harry slept.

Harry felt like he'd been asleep for years. He was scared to wake up, to open his eyes; he was scared the voices of his friends and his escape were a hallucination or a trick. Everything sounded quiet, so Harry risked opening his eyes just a little.

He saw Professor Dumbledore asleep in a chair beside Harry, and stars twinkling in the window. He could see the moon, bright and full. Harry felt a stab of sympathy for Professor Lupin.

As quietly as Harry could, he stepped out of bed and walked to the window. Gingerly, he opened it up. He felt the warm night air wash over him, and he felt better then he had in a long time. He stood in front of the window and admired the landscape for a long time. He looked over, and saw Hedwig.

"_Sssh, girl. I don't want to wake anyone_." Harry said. He walked over, and petted her in her stand. She seemed very happy to see him, even if a little put off by his speech.

Harry looked over at the alarm clock, and saw that it was 5:07. 'What a peculiar time to wake up,' Harry thought. Harry looked over at Professor Dumbledore, and saw his blue eyes looking at him. There was no twinkle in them this time, only an unimaginable guilt.

Loathe as he was to admit it, he felt a stab of fear. Over the last, a month was his best guess, everyone who looked at him tortured him and made him feel unimaginable pain. He knew Dumbledore wouldn't do that, but he couldn't help but flinch at his gaze.

"Oh, Harry." Dumbledore stood up slowly. "I am so sorry." Harry held his ground, while Dumbledore slowly walked over and knelt in front of him. "I am so sorry for what you have gone through." A tear leaked out of Dumbledore's eye; Harry was at a loss for words.

He tried to say "_It's okay,_" But all that came out was the familiar hissing of parseltongue.

Dumbledore looked shocked.

"Don't try and talk right now, Harry, just rest..."

"_I want to go outside."_ Harry tried to say, but again only the hissing of parseltongue emitted from his mouth.

"Harry... can you only speak parseltongue?" Dumbledore asked?

Harry nodded, then jerked his thumb outside. Harry was too numb at the moment to be thrown off by his lack of speech.

"Do you want to go outside for a bit?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry nodded.

Dumbledore considered this, then acquiesced, supposing he was dying to see the outside after captivity for so long.

"You will find muggle clothes on the bedside table, you can change in the bathroom there. I will wait here." Dumbledore said.

Harry nodded, then went to change. After he did, they both walked quietly outside and sat on the porch.

Harry was staring at the stars. He forgot how wonderful they looked on a night like this. Dumbledore looked at his shoes and said, "You probably want to know some general information."

Harry nodded.

"You were missing for 3 weeks. You were presumed dead, having found the Dursleys dead in their home and you missing. We knew that if he killed you he would have left your body, but as of right now you are widely considered deceased. You collapsed in the foyer of Grimmauld Place 4 days ago, and have been asleep until now."

Harry was surprised, it had felt like one or two months trapped down there. Alone, with nothing but the Lestranges... Harry shuddered and forced himself not to think about that.

Dumbledore looked at Harry with sympathy in his eyes. "Is there anything I can do for you, Harry?"

Harry considered this question, but he was quite happy just to have some company. He motioned for Dumbledore to keep sitting.

"Do you want to know what has been going on since you have been... away?"

Harry nodded. Anything to distract him from these thoughts, which were so much worse now that he escaped...

"Very well. One of our main priorities, of course, was rescuing you. We know to a fault what kind of conditions you were kept in, and how often you were healed, thanks to Professor Snape. We did what we could to find your location, but Severus was not the secret keeper, and therefore could help little. It is my understanding however, that he snuck you healing potions fairly often?"

Harry nodded. He was not aware they were being snuck, but was incredibly thankful all the same.

"We have been working with the Ministry of Magic to try and increase awareness of safety precautions and the size of Voldemort's forces, and they are gladly co-operating now. As no doubt you will see tomorrow no thanks to Hermionie and Ron..."

Harry closed his eyes tight. Before his mind's eye flashed images of him murdering people with their faces, with Dumbledore's, with Molly's...

Dumbledore waited patiently. Unknown to Harry, a tear leaked out of his eye. He wished he could do anything to take Harry's pain away.

"... The ministry has sent out quite humorous flyers on after-nightfall safety. While important, they do not communicate very effectively." Harry and Dumbledore both allowed themselves small smiles at this notion."

Dumbledore seemed happy that his talk was helping Harry. "However," Dumbledore continued, "There have been an unusually high amount of muggle raids up and down the country. The unusual thing is, not all the muggles are killed. Only about half are, and they have been happening almost every three days, which is unusual compared to his last reign."

Harry began shaking, and waving his hands like he was trying to communicate something. He was pointing at himself.

"You?" Dumbledore asked. "They had something to do with you?"

Harry nodded. He pointe to himself, and then ran his pointer finger over his throat to represent death, then threw his hands out to represent everybody.

"They were killed because of you?" Dumbledore asked, taken aback.

Harry pursed his lips, then shook his head.

Dumbledore paled in the moonlight. "He made you... kill them?" He said it like he didn't want to believe it.

Harry nodded, then buried head in his hands. He then mimed two groups, and then pointed from one to the other, and mimed death again.

Dumbledore concentrated, trying to understand what Harry was saying. "Voldemort split them into two groups, and then..." Harry nodded, saying he was on the right track "..you had to pick which one lived."

Harry looked up at the sky, tears in his eyes. He felt so guilty for all those lives he took. He had no choice, Voldemort was making him, he told himself. Even so, he felt that all their blood was in his hands. All the people he had to curse, the dark magic he was forced to perform on those people...

"Harry, it's not your fault." Dumbledore whispered.

Harry's focus snapped to Dumbledore. He looked at him, and nodded 'yes, it is.'

"It really isn't. He was making you. He would have killed them all if you hadn't have chosen." Dumbledore looked at Harry. It was beginning to get light out, Harry could see the conviction on Dumbledore's face. Harry looked away, confused. He didn't know what to think.

"Harry, we believe you aren't responsible." Harry looked up quizzically at the word 'we.' Dumbledore responded, "I know the rest of the order, and your friends, are behind me when we say that. Harry Potter, you are a brave, brave, wonderful boy." Dumbledore looked at Harry with the utmost respect, something he can't recall having ever seen on the professor's face before.

"Harry, it is beginning to get light out. We had best be going inside, before anyone wonders where we went." Harry hated to go inside, when he had just spent almost a month in dark dungeons. Dumbledore must have saw this because he smiled faintly and said, "Perhaps you and your friends can go to the park down the block when you have time." This made Harry smile, and they walked inside.

The moment they stepped inside, they were bowled over by a Mrs. Weasley, making an early breakfast.

"Harry!" She exclaimed. "You're awake!" She scurried at him to give him a hug. While a little frightened at first, Harry quickly relaxed into hugging her back.

"Now, Molly, there is something you should know. Voldemort has placed some kind of curse upon Harry, and he can only speak parseltongue, no doubt to make him feel more isolated. I am going to begin research with Professor McGonagall immediately to remedy this issue, but until then I encourage you to ask him many yes/no questions." Harry nodded vigorously at this.

Dumbledore said, "I am sorry to say this but I must be off. I will be back soon, no doubt, to try and remedy young Harry's speech. Good day to you both." Dumbledore smiled quaintly, and walked out the door.

Molly looked at Harry almost pityingly for a second, and then said "You're looking a bit peaky, they didn't feed you at all did they. You look absolutely skeletal is what. I have some eggs, would you like me to make you an omelete?" Harry nodded, amused. Of course they didn't feed him, he was a prisoner of one of the most tyrannical maniacs of history. But then again, this was Mrs. Weasley, and that thought made him smile.

"Do you want me to go wake up Ron and Hermionie?" She asked.

He considered it. He thought that the avalanche of questions could wait on their having a good nights sleep. He was eager to see them, but he knew in an hour or two he would anyways, and he didn't want to needlessly stress himself out too.

Harry shook his head no.

Molly looked dismayed. "Oh why not dear? Oh thats right, you can't answer. I guess it's because they'll be awake soon enough, isn't it?"

Harry nodded his assent, and grabbed a croissant off of the table.

"Oh, that's right. You can have any of the stuff on the table." Mrs. Weasley added as an afterthought. "I know you're going to need your rest today Harry but Ron and Hermionie are going to have a busy day. It's been a solid year and there are still bugs and mites living all over this house, as well as that horrid portrait of Sirius's mum. We haven't been able to get her down yet, blast it. Permanent sticking charms are the most ridiculous thing anyone has ever thought of..."

Harry was just happy to be home.

"Harry! Oh my God Harry you're awake!" Ron came bounding down the stairs with Hermionie at a healthy 11 o'clock a.m. He wouldn't have expected anything less from Ron and Hermionie.

"Why didn't you come wake us up? Why didn't you come tell us?" Hermionie said. "We've been so worried about you..." They looked at him, apparently waiting for him to speak. He looked at them, and hissed incoherently at them.

They looked at him like he was crazy. He mimed there being a zipper over his lips, and then hissed again in parseltongue.

"You can only speak in parseltongue?" Ron asked. "That's ridiculous!" He exclaimed. Hermionie looked at Harry, sad. He felt annoyed at her pity, but at the same time understood she cared about him, both her and Ron. This lifted his spirits more then anything.

Hermionie leaned over to hug Harry, and Harry flinched only momentarily before hugging her back. He couldn't help the images that flashed by, of him cursing Hermionie and Ron over and over in the muggle villages. Harry shook for a second, and Hermione held him tighter before letting go.

"I know Dumbledore'll find a way to bring your speech back, mate." Ron said placidly. Harry felt that the three of them were at a loss of what to talk about, but Harry was just happy to see them.

Dumbledore walked in at that time. "Harry," He addressed him. "I think I have found a way to reverse your speech problem. If you would come with me," He asked. They walked outside, and the three of them apparated to outside Hogwarts.

"It seems that the curse Voldemort used to rob you of your speech was a fairly simple piece of dark magic. The real danger lies in the fact that it is extremely obscure, and only by going through Hogwarts's dustiest of tomes could we find a counter-curse. It is quite long, but should get the job done properly. However, you should experience an.. acclimation period, shall we say. Your body will forget sometimes that it can speak English again, so you will need to focus on our being human, and not serpents." Dumbledore looked back, and smiled benignly. Harry grinned, he was going to have his speech back. That was quite a luxury after having missed it for so long.

They arrived at Dumbledore's office, where he had an old textbook open on his desk.

"Please sit down in that chair, Harry. And try and be still, I do not know how this will feel." Dumbledore strode around to in front of the book, and began the countercurse.

"Vinctus ab angue vias hunc dimittis, quia homo ad nucleum. Et videbitis verum quaerere!"

As Dumbledore completed the sentence, it felt like a great snake inside of Harry uncoiled from around his heart, and a pressure released that he didn't even notice he had.

Harry looked up at Dumbledore and asked, "Am I speaking English?"

To Harry's delight, Dumbledore said "Yes you are my boy." He smiled, and the twinkle returned to his eye. "I am quite glad Voldemort used a simple curse, that turned out a lot easier to cure then I expected..."

Harry began to look around, and Dumbledore sat down and became serious. "Do you want to talk about what happened?" He asked.

Harry nodded slowly, and then Dumbledore waited.

It was a long time before Harry spoke.

"They kept me in a cage."

Harry's voice was hoarse from disuse. Dumbledore said quietly, "Dobby, bring me a glass of water then leave." Dobby appeared with a glass of water and just as quickly was gone. Dumbledore handed Harry the water, and he drank the whole glass.

"They chained my hands and feet to the corners of the cage." Harry's voice shook, suppressing fear. "They left me there, with no food and no water, for days." He already found it hard to continue, and gulped nervously. His hands shook the glass of water he was holding.

"I was beginning to think maybe he was just trying to make me go mad."

"It was so dark, and so lonely... I couldn't hear a thing... It seemed like forever."

Dumbledore leaned forward, compassion in his eyes.

"But then... he began to talk to me." Harry looked up at Dumbledore to see him paying rapt attention. This spurred him on.

"He wanted to talk to me, to interrogate me, about everything. About Hogwarts, about you, about me, about my friends, about Gryffindor, about everything... I refused at first. He used the Cruciatus Curse a lot to punish me originally, but then he got creative... he started burning off my skin, cutting my body everywhere..."

Harry's voice shook, he remembered how sometimes Voldemort would play with him for hours.

"But then he realized hurting me wasn't getting him anywhere, so he started threatening Ron and Hermionie and the Weasleys... I knew he was bluffing but I couldn't risk it!" Harry's voice rose. "I didn't mean to betray anyone, I just couldn't risk Ron or Ginny or anyone getting hurt! I-"

"Harry." Dumbledore's calming voice cut him off. Harry looked at him desperately.

"I didn't know what to do," he whispered. "I was trapped." He bowed his head.

"I know."

After a long while, Dumbledore said, "What next?"

Harry closed his eyes tight. "He took me on my first raid."

"We would go to muggle villages. He would separate the people into groups, like two parents and then their child, and I had to pick who lived and who died. For the whole town I would have to do this, until my voice was hoarse." Harry began to cry meekly.

"All those people I killed, their blood is on my hands. I couldn't save them I couldn't do anything..." Harry buried his face in his hands, ashamed to be in Dumbledore's presence when he was a murderer.

Dumbledore took Harry's hands into his own. Harry felt the age on his skin, the coarse feel of his long, bony fingers.

"Harry, it is not your fault." Dumbledore's honest blue eyes pierced into Harry like never before. "It is Voldemort's, for setting up this whole scenario. You didn't kill those people, the Death Eaters did. You were trying to save as many as possible, were you not?"

Harry nodded. Dumbledore let go of his hands and sat up a little, ready for Harry to continue.

"Eventually, he... He made me stab this man." Dumbledore's eyes flew open a little.

"Either I had to kill him, with this dagger... or watch 200 townspeople die. I had to do it, I couldn't watch so many people die." Harry began to cry again. "He knew why he had to die, too. He just stood there with his head bowed, and even though he couldn't understand my parseltongue he knew I didn't want to do this, he knew he had no choice..." Harry looked down.

"I lunged at him and slit his throat." Dumbledore took Harry's hand again into his own, and held it tight for support.

"Voldemort... he congratulated me. He said it was good of me to realize when killing is necessary, and that one day, I'd see the meaning of his ways..." Harry's chest began to heave a little as he silently cried.

Dumbledore waited patiently, his eyes watching Harry carefully.

"He began to teach me dark magic after that..." Harry breathlessly said. "He would take me on raids and teach me how to torture people..."

"But it was worse in the cage. I only got fed before raids, every 3 days. Death Eaters would show up randomly, they would curse me until I passed out, or break my bones and heal them all over again... sometimes they wouldn't fix them, but Snape always showed up when that happened..."

Harry was grateful for Snape doing that, but he'd never admit it.

"You should let Professor Snape know you appreciate it," Dumbledore suggested kindly. Harry simply nodded.

"People came to torture me like that almost every day... but some days it was worse. Bellatrix Lestrange... she would come into my cell, and..." Harry began to shudder and curl in on himself. "It was... she was... sickening... She bit me..."

Dumbledore's eyes grew wide, and he almost gasped as he realized what had happened.

Harry saw this and said, "Wait, t-that wasn't even as b-bad as what Rudolphus, her h-husband did. They're... They're sick." Harry curled in on himself and began to shake violently. He'd never let himself consciously remember before this, how they defiled his body...

Dumbledore whispered, "Harry... maybe you should let someone, Madame Pomfrey maybe, do a medial check-up"

"No."

"Harry?" Dumbledore was concerned.

"No. I'm not letting anyone... no. No way." Harry began shaking a little harder. He took his hand back from Dumbledore and hugged himself close.

Dumbledore decided not to press it. As he gently placed his hand on Harry's shoulder he said, "It's entirely your choice Harry. I won't force you to do anything." Harry's shaking abated and he looked up.

"Voldemort would still try to talk to me, interrogate me occasionally, but he seemed to have all the information he wanted... he usually popped in for a lively spot of torture to brighten his day." Harry laughed, suddenly and derisively, which caught Dumbledore off-guard.

"This went on for about a week or two, maybe more... but then I realized. For some reason, he didn't have anti-apparition wards on my cage. I think it was so I ever got to see the layout of his hideout, but we always apparated directly out of the cage. Fred and George incidentally taught me to apparate last summer, illegally of course,"

Harry paused, to allow Dumbledore a pleasant chuckle at the twins antics. Harry himself laughed too. However, the smiles slid off of their faces as if they were never really there.

"So I re-taught myself how to apparate quickly in the cell, so as not to raise alarm, and then apparated to Grimmauld Place, where Mrs. Weasley found me." Harry finished weakly.

Harry was happy, that he told Dumbledore. Telling him the whole story was not pleasant, but he was glad somebody knew what he went through. There was still something he wanted to show Dumbledore.

"Sir... I wanted to show you something in the pensive... I wanted your opinion on something that happened..."

"Of course, Harry" Dumbledore looked further concerned, but this was no surprise to Harry.

Harry guessed retrieving a memory was simple enough. You think of it, place your wand to your temple, and remember. As Dumbledore stood up to retrieve the pensive, Harry closed his eyes and shuddered has he remembered the first raid... and as soon as he thought of it, the memory was contained in a string of silvery substance that he deposited.

Dumbledore and Harry placed their wands in the pensive, and watched.

It was just like he remembered. The fire was glinting maliciously off of Voldemort's eyes, licking his body in a sinister dance. The memory started not far along into the choices, for Harry was not yet crying.

Dumbledore's eyes flew wide open in understanding, and turned to Harry to say something, but he cut him off with a wave of his hand. Personal though it may be, he wanted someone to understand how evil Voldemort was. Harry watched himself break down, cry even, in front of Voldemort. Dumbledore stood paralyzed watching the proceedings, but Harry simply felt numb. He couldn't believe he sentenced all those people to death.

Then it came. The choice between one man, killed by Harry's hand, and 200 citizens. Harry shut his eyes tight, but he could still hear. He could hear Dumbledore's gasp as he unsheathed the dagger, shaking and sobbing. He could hear Voldemort egging him on in parseltongue, for it had to be done soon. He could hear himself running at the man and lunging at him, plunging his dagger deep into the man's throat.

Harry opened his eyes. He saw Dumbledore's revulsion at Voldemort's praise, as the memory slowly faded away. Dumbledore's eyes locked with Harry's, as they returned to their body.

"Harry." Dumbledore said. "That was very... private, what you showed me. Thank you." Dumbledore pulled Harry into a hug, while he was mumbling nonsense.

"I think I should take this opportunity to let you know how much I care about you. I can imagine your frustration with me, sitting here preaching of love and emotion while not saying anything of what I feel of you. You are a grandson to me Harry, and I would do everything that is in my power to keep you from harm like what you suffered that night." Dumbledore let go of Harry, and Harry looked up at Dumbledore with dead eyes.

"I just... didn't want to be alone." Harry said. Dumbledore looked at a loss for words.

Harry regretfully took the memory out of the pensive, and floo'ed back to Grimmauld Place.

Dumbledore was revolted at Voldemort. He was sickened by what Riddle had put Harry though, put someone as young as Harry through the unspeakable act of choosing who lives and who dies.

The moment he saw Harry leave through the fireplace, Dumbledore began to shed tears. How could he have let this happen? He let Harry fall into this huge danger, and it really was his fault. He failed to see the wards were useless if Voldemort had Harry's blood, failed to see this for over a year. It's only through sheer thoughtlessness and Harry's talent at magic that he was with us at all, and not still rotting in Tom Riddle's prison.

Dumbledore felt that he couldn't tell Harry, because then he wouldn't feel safe, but Dumbledore had lost a little faith in himself and his judgement that night.


End file.
